Page 28 of A Mafia's Treasure

Blood seeps from the clamp. “Tommy, stitch this up,” I command as I move round the table. He won’t die from this, not unless I leave him to bleed out. Of course, that is not my plan. I want this mother fucker to feel pain and to realize that he shouldn’t have crossed me.

I can’t resist the pull to my phone while I wait for Tommy to finish up, and I check I haven’t missed anything, but still nothing! I guess she really has withdrawn. I knew something was off, so it looks like I’ll have to take things into my own hands. I’m not a patient man, and I thought I would have had something by now … anything. Normally when I fuck women, they don’t stop pestering me, but this one leaves me hanging.

It’s only been a few hours, but that’s more than enough time without hearing from her.

“All done, boss.” Tommy clears his throat behind me, and I turn my head and raise a brow and stare at him. “You wouldn’t be looking at my texts now, would you, Tommy?” I narrow my eyes at him.

“Of course not, boss.” He smiles at me and slaps my back, then heads back to the table, dragging another surgical table with him. I hear the sloshing of acid as it slaps against the side of the bowl.

“I’d like to remove his fingers and toes when you’ve finished,” he tells me. “And of course, his teeth,” he says with a sinister smile.

Chapter21

Nico

Laughing, I make my way back to Ivan, who is now whimpering. “This could have been a lot worse for you.” I slap his face to get his attention. “You should be thankful that I have my mind on other things.” I crack my neck and nod at Tommy to sink his feet into the acid.

At first, he gives no reaction, like putting your feet in warm water, then it starts to creep up on you, the stinging and burning sensation, and he attempts to move his feet, but the grip Tommy has on him is too strong.

I watch as his skin starts to burn up, and the smell is pungent, vinegar like, and his flesh gets redder and redder as the acid penetrates his skin.

Fuck knows when he put them on but Tommy picks up his feet wearing some specialist gloves. “What?” he asks, looking at me. “I’m not getting this shit on my hands.”

I didn’t see it before but next to the bowl is a machete. The acid has damaged some skin but it's not going to make this job any easier. Tommy looks at me for the go ahead, and I nod, confirmation for him to proceed.

“Brace yourself, Ivan, you know how I like to keep you on your toes.” I laugh at my own joke, but Ivan, on the other hand, doesn’t appear to think it’s that funny.

The whoosh of the machete slices through the air repeatedly as Tommy hacks away at his toes, and each time he is successful, you hear one drop to the floor with a soft thud and rustle against the tarp.

Blood pours from the wounds as Tommy severs Ivan’s toes from his feet.

He picks them up one by one and wanders over to the cupboard, then drops them into the blender. The blades stutter as they struggle to cut through bone, but he shakes it and it starts to spin. Eventually, I can see a thick, bony liquid forming inside.

“Ready.” He looks at me.

“Ready,” I tell him as I lean down to Ivan and rip the tape from his mouth. “It’s been fun, but we should get down to business,” I tell him.

“N-Nico, p-please, we can work this out,” he stutters.

I take the knife from the trolley and slice a cross on his chest and watch as the blood trickles quickly down his side.

“Cross your heart.” I chuckle but again, I get nothing from Ivan.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he tells me, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You have nothing for me,” I tell him as I run the knife across his neck, teasing him with death.

“Wait-wait,” he shouts. “Tony … there’s Tony.” His eyes bore into mine, pleading me to stop.

“There’s nothing you have on my capos that I don’t already know,” I spit out.

“The guy from London, Frankie …” he begins to tell me. “It’s not what you think.” A bloody smile spreads over his lips.

If this mother fucker thinks he’s going to get me begging for answers about my own men, then he can think again.

“You seem happy with yourself, Ivan.” I grind my teeth hard as I approach him, and I push his head back with one hand and look down at him. “You think you’re quite the joker, huh?”

He tries to move his head from my grasp, but I’m not letting up. “If you wanna fucking smile, Ivan, let’s make this a little more permanent for you,” I say as I slice from the corner of his mouth and up to his cheek. I do the same to both sides. “You look happy with yourself, Ivan. You have anything else you wanna share?” I ask.